


Sweetest Distraction

by SandraMorningstar



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: M/M, PWP, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 19:45:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11698629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandraMorningstar/pseuds/SandraMorningstar
Summary: After a long, stressful day, Q wanted nothing more than to head home and get some well-deserved rest. But Bond had his own plans for the quartermaster and the rest of the night.





	Sweetest Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is pure, shameless self-indulgence. I was so happy to finally be able to write again now that the exams are over that I even skipped my usual amount of angst. So this is pure, beautiful, mostly plot-less smut.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy reading it!

A cold wind accosted Q the moment he stepped outside of the MI6 building, sweeping under his coat and sending chills up and down his spine. He shivered and in an effort to keep out the freezing air wrapped his scarf tighter around himself.

“Incoming!” The shout came from above, followed by a rugged, delighted laugh and the deep _fwuuh_ sound of a large pair of wings snapping open to bring their owner out of a dive. Q felt the gust of wind ruffling his hair and instinctively ducked his head. His own wings strained against his harness, trying to puff up in a gesture of intimidation. Not that his wings would intimidate anyone. Unlike 007’s who in that moment landed smoothly in front of him, a smug smile on his face.

“Good evening, quartermaster”, the agent said in a low, smooth voice. “Fancy meeting you here.” He stepped closer until he was right up in Q’s personal space. A fact he was all too aware of judging by the way his smile grew just a smidge wider. Q rolled his eyes and huffed in exasperation. The voice in his head told him to take a step back as Bond towered over him with his broad shoulders and truly impressive, gorgeous wings but he didn’t listen and stood his ground. No way would he give Bond the satisfaction of seeing that he’d gotten under his skin. Especially since it seemed to be the agent’s one goal since they’d started working together.

“So, I see you got out of medical”, Q said unimpressed. “And already you’re jumping off buildings again. I’m pretty sure there is something called a recuperation period but maybe that doesn’t apply to you either.” He softened the bite of his words somewhat with a slight lopsided grin.

Bond looked like a cat that had been caught stealing food from the table. Aware that he’d done something he wasn’t supposed to but not sorry about it in the least.

“I missed flying”, was his simple reply. He shrugged and stretched his wings, showing off his colours. Q followed the motion. In the fading daylight Bond’s wings had a metallic gleam to them, silver contrasting the deep black that made up most of them and a slight golden hue for the light grey of his marginal coverts. It looked stunning.

“Like what you see?”, Bond said, his voice a low rumble. He raised his wings higher and stretched them out to their full potential.

Q felt his cheeks flush. “It’s just good to see that your recklessness hasn’t caused any permanent damage. Yet.”, he said stroppily. “If all you wanted to do was show off, I think that’s taken care of now. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get home before it starts snowing again. Good night!” He walked past the agent and towards the tube station.

“And what if I wanted to do more?”, Bond yelled after him.

“More than what?”, Q asked. He stopped and turned around to face the agent again, folding his arms.

“More than show off”, Bond replied calmly. “Care for a drink?”

“Not really.” Q frowned at the thought of spending an extended period of time in a noisy pub. After almost thirty hours of uninterrupted work, this was the last place he wanted to go. “I need to be back here in eight hours, so…”

“And you’re taking the tube?” Bond raised a questioning eyebrow.

Q had to break eye contact. He pulled his wings closer to his body, thankful that the harness made the gesture invisible.  “Too tired”, he said flatly and shrugged.

“My car’s still parked here. I could give you a lift”, Bond offered. “It’s definitely faster than the tube.”

“Because you drive like a madman”, Q shot back, a faint smile on his lips. “But I know you love your car more than is probably healthy and would rather lose a limb than allow it to get damaged so I’ll take the risk.”

“It’s an old-timer in top condition. Unless you vow to love and cherish it until death or lack of spare parts separates you, you don’t deserve to have it in your life”, Bond explained, expression completely serious.

Q couldn’t help but chuckle. “Okay Casanova, let’s go”, he said and walked back towards the parking garage; Bond kept pace.

 

* * *

 

With Bond’s impressive wingspan taking up almost as much space as a third passenger, things were a bit cramped in the Aston Martin. Q adjusted his position over and over to find a comfortable way to sit but his efforts remained fruitless. He was too tense anyway. His shoulder and wing muscles had been hurting all day and he had a feeling there was a wing cramp in his near future unless he got out of his harness asap.

“Everything alright?”, Bond asked with honest concern in his voice.

“Yes”, Q lied. “Just ready to finally get some sleep.” That part was true at least.

“How long have you been up?”

“I don’t know. 25 hours at the least, probably something closer to 27, though.” Q let out a heavy sigh. “And if things are as usual, I won’t get much sleep now either. Too much on my mind.”

“I know the feeling”, Bond said sympathetically. His expression was deliberately unreadable but Q didn’t prod. He’d read the agent’s file and although he was sure Bond hadn't always disclosed everything, there was enough there to understand why he rarely talked about his past. Q didn’t like his past either so he felt a kinship with him in that regard.

They spent the rest of the drive in silence. At first Q was quietly fretting over the fact that their conversation had come to a halt. However, Bond seemed content which gave him some peace of mind as well.

 

“Thank you”, Q said when Bond parked in front of his apartment building.

“You’re welcome”, Bond said amicably. There was a warmth in his voice that Q thought was new but maybe that was just the lack of sleep talking. In any case, it flustered him a little.

“Um, I might have a nightcap before heading to bed. You can join me if you like.” The quartermaster wasn’t quite sure where he’d gotten the courage from to ask this but now all he could do was anxiously wait for an answer.

“I’d be delighted”, Bond said with a smile that made Q blush all over again and a wanting heat bloom in his stomach.

“Good. Good”, he got out, caught severely off guard. Breathe, he reminded himself. You got yourself into this and you can see it through. “Just, um, follow me then, I suppose.”

 

The elevator ride up to his floor had never taken longer. Q fidgeted with the strap of his laptop bag the whole time, painfully aware of Bond’s eyes on him. His wings were shifting nervously in his harness. Probably enough for it to show but he couldn’t make it stop. He was too nervous.

“Relax, Q”, Bond said and put a steadying hand on Q’s shoulder. “If you’re uncomfortable with this, just say the word and I leave. I know it takes a lot of trust to let a double-o into your home.”

“No”, the quartermaster protested hastily. “It’s not that. It’s– Well, I don’t know where this is going.”

There was a moment of realization in Bond’s eyes, then he asked: “Where do you want it to go?”

If Q was being honest, he had a very vivid idea where he _wanted_ things to go but he was too shy to say it. “I don’t know”, he replied instead, blush deepening.

“I think you do”, Bond said calmly.

“Maybe”, Q said. He let his gaze drop but still felt the agent’s clear blue eyes on him. “But it wouldn’t be appropriate…”

“To hell with propriety then”, Bond said and the smile he was wearing now was a definite invitation.

Still, Q hesitated to do anything. Bond moved in his stead so that they were facing each other, barely a hand’s breadth between them. One of his hands cradled the back of Q’s neck; with the other he raised his head so they were eye-to-eye again.

“May I?”, Bond asked, voice barely above a whisper.

The quartermaster nodded, all words having suddenly escaped him. He closed his eyes as Bond leaned in, his heart beating loud and fast.

And then Bond kissed him and the tension melted away. Q moaned into the kiss.

Way too soon the loud _ding_ signalled that they’d reached the sixth floor. Q broke the kiss and drew back. He smiled shyly at Bond who looked at him with open admiration and desire. They made it outside and about halfway to his apartment door before they stopped and started kissing again. It was no surprise that Bond was incredibly skilled. After all, he regularly seduced people. Still, no amount of watching the man charm the pants off a target or any amount of daydreaming had come even close to what the quartermaster was experiencing now. 

Bond was surprisingly gentle, slowly coaxing his mouth open so he could deepen the kiss. Both his hands were buried in Q’s hair now, combing through it with gentle, languorous motions.

“We should … really … take this inside”, Q said breathlessly between bouts of kissing.

“Good idea”, Bond agreed.

The quartermaster had never unlocked his door faster. He pulled Bond inside with him and threw the door shut, then eagerly pushed him against it. Now it was his turn to kiss him senseless. Q let his mouth wander, trailing kisses along the agent’s cheekbones and down his neck until he found a spot that made Bond emit a low, strangled sound and his wings fluff up with barely contained excitement. Deciding to tease him a bit, Q let his tongue dart out and playfully licked over the sweet spot he’d found. He was rewarded by Bond cursing under his breath, followed by the agent’s hands busying themselves with unbuttoning Q’s shirt.

“Bedroom”, Bond huffed. “Now.” He manoeuvred Q backwards. They left a trail of discarded clothes in their wake. The agent had started it by pulling off Q’s shirt who then retaliated by relieving Bond of his coat and tie. By the time Bond pushed Q onto the bed both of them were almost completely naked. The only piece of clothing left was Q’s harness and Bond set out to remedy that as well. The quartermaster tensed up immediately and grabbed the agent by the wrist as he reached out.

“Q?”, Bond said questioningly and slowly pulled back his hand.

“I– I’d rather leave the harness on”, Q said in a low voice, avoiding eye contact.

“Are you shy about your wing colours?” The amusement in Bond’s voice was clear.

Q shrugged, uncomfortable, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Don’t be”, Bond said and let his fingers card through the bit of fluff that peeked out above the harness. Q leaned into the touch with a low moan. “I’m sure they’re beautiful.”

Q almost scoffed at that but stopped himself. He settled for: “They’re really nothing remarkable.”

“I’d love to see them. Feel them”, Bond said and something in his voice made Q pause.

After a moment of consideration the quartermaster nodded. “Okay. I’ll take the harness off but only if the lights are out. It’s either that or nothing.” He couldn’t help being defensive about it and for a second he feared Bond would just leave, unwilling to play if it wasn’t by his own rules. Surprisingly, Bond didn’t. He just nodded, slow and, Q thought, with understanding.

“I’ll get the light”, the agent said.

The blinds were drawn so when the lights went out the room disappeared. Nothing but black in front of Q’s eyes. There was the faintest of sounds as Bond padded back to the bed, followed by the significantly louder noise of the old bedframe as the agent settled onto it again. Q reached out until he touched skin and felt strong muscle under his palm that moved slightly as Bond stretched out his hand. He let it wander up Q’s arm, the touch unbelievably gentle.

“May I do the honours?”, Bond asked as his hand moved past Q’s shoulder and caressed the fabric of the harness. Q shuddered with pleasure.

“Yes”, he breathed and adjusted his position to give Bond better access. He felt the agent’s deft hands making quick work of the straps holding the harness in place. Then came the moment when the harness loosened. His wings, freed from their confinement felt incredibly light as the cloth slid off them and he was free to move them again. He let out a loud sigh of relief as he stretched them carefully. The wonderful feeling was only heightened when Bond started carding his hands through his feathers, making Q’s breath hitch as pleasure rushed through him, ebbing and flowing with each of Bond’s movements.

“Do you feel good?”, Bond asked quietly.

“Yes.” Q nodded even though Bond couldn’t see it. He was still breathless even though they hadn’t even really started yet. “Can– can I touch your wings, too?”, the quartermaster asked shyly.

“Of course.” Bond stopped his ministrations and instead took Q’s hands and guided them until they were buried in his plumage. Q scooted closer to have a better grip and sunk his hands even deeper into Bond’s feathers which made the agent emit some rather satisfying sounds. Spurred on by that, the quartermaster fondled him some more until Bond sounded very much like he was on the brink of orgasm already.

“Feeling good, 007?”, Q said in the clear voice he used when guiding the agent on a mission.

Now it was Bond’s turn to be breathless and overwhelmed. “Very…” It sounded like something was meant to follow but nothing did.

“Good”, Q conceded, still using his quartermaster voice. “Now, open the drawer of the night stand and get the lube and condoms.”

There was some rustling and then Bond handed him a condom. He kept the lube to himself, though.

“You know”, Bond said and Q heard him open the lube, “I was going to be a gentleman and buy you dinner first.”

“The sentiment is appreciated”, Q said, “But, please, just … hurry.” He didn’t care that he was rushing things. The mere knowledge that Bond wanted this as much as he did was enough to get him hard and now he needed release.

“So impatient, quartermaster” Bond reprimanded him but complied. With strong hands he made Q turn around and began to work him open. It cost Q all the restraint he had to not come then and there. He moaned loudly and moved back to keep up the friction Bond was creating.

“You are a bloody tease”, Q complained. His hands were fisted into the bedsheets, holding on as if his life depended on it.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet, Q”, Bond cooed. “You haven’t seen the worst of me yet.” And with that he started stroking the sensitive fluff of feathers where his wings sprouted from his back.

“Oh, fuck!” The curse escaped the quartermaster unconsciously. He flapped his wings hectically, doing his best not to hit the agent with them. Quite a task in the complete darkness.

“I intend to”, Bond said with a low chuckle. “I’m going to take you apart slowly. Very, very slowly.”

“Please…”, Q begged, voice breathy. “I can’t– I won’t make it much longer.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to take care of you first then”, the agent said. He pressed a kiss between Q’s wings before nudging him as a playful invitation to turn around and lie back. All of Q’s limbs felt wobbly and unsteady but he managed to switch position.

Bond’s lips were suddenly right next to his ear. Q stilled instinctively. “Hold out a little bit longer”, the agent said in quiet amusement. He breathed a kiss onto the quartermaster’s cheek and from there explored downwards along his cheekbones over his neck and chest down towards his navel, nipping and kissing Q’s sensitive skin. Q nearly lost his mind. He squirmed in sheer pleasure, hitching breaths chased by strangled moans. His wings fluttered and shifted like they had a mind of their own, tangling themselves in the sheets.

“Sh, not so wild, Q”, Bond whispered and used his wings to pin the quartermaster’s against the mattress. Then he continued the trail of kisses, moving below the navel and finishing with the softest touch of his lips against the tip of Q’s cock. The quartermaster sighed blissfully which turned into a loud moan when Bond took him into his mouth.

“Mmmmn, yes”, Q exclaimed. Jolts, of pleasure wrecked his body. He had the urge to grind into Bond’s mouth but forced himself not to because he wasn’t sure if the agent would be alright with that or not. And he was already feeling the first edges of orgasm anyway. Bond swirled his tongue, expertly edging him on until Q felt the sweet bliss of his mind having a momentary, complete whiteout. His whole world shrunk down to the feeling of bliss Bond was giving him.

 

* * *

 

“That was … intense”, was the first thing Q said after the orgasm had ebbed away. His limbs felt heavy in the satisfied, content way that could only be achieved by a good shag.

“Glad to hear that”, Bond said quietly. “Think you can sleep now?”, he asked as he moved off of Q and settled down on the bed next to him, an arm lazily draped over the quartermaster’s waist.

“Don’t _you_ want to finish, too?”, Q asked quietly.

“Don’t worry about me”, Bond replied and pulled him closer. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite”, Bond said and although Q couldn’t see him smile he heard it in his voice. “Now sleep, Q. You can worry about me again tomorrow to your heart’s content.” He breathed a soft kiss to Q’s lips.

Q nodded hesitantly. “Okay”, he said and relaxed, letting his eyes drift close. Bond’s hands found their way to his wings again, caressing them softly, straightening feathers that had been ruffled. It felt nice, relaxing. He was about to drift off when Bond spoke again.

“I’ll leave once you’re asleep”, he said.

“Why?”, Q said, propping himself up on one elbow. He heard the disappointment in his own voice.

“Because I don’t want any rumours about you going around. They can get pretty ugly when I’m involved”, Bond explained, his voice carefully controlled.

“I don’t care.” He really didn’t. They were all welcome to think whatever they bloody well liked.

“I know”, Bond cut in before he could say anything more. “But others might and I don’t want your career coming under scrutiny because of this.”

“Okay…” Q had a feeling that Bond wouldn’t be swayed. With a sigh he settled down. “Can I see you again?”, he asked quietly.

“Of course.” There was a low chuckle from Bond. “I’m still officially on leave, you know. Something about a recuperation period. So there’s plenty of time for me to haunt Q branch.”

“Haunting is right”, Q said with a put-upon sigh. “But you know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know…” There was a long pause. “And if you still want this in a few days when you’ve had time to think about the consequences it could have, I’ll gladly indulge you. But I won’t let you make any post-sex plans or promises you might feel compelled to keep against better judgement.”

“You flatter yourself if you think I’d risk my career for you”, Q protested but he knew that no matter what he said, Bond was uncannily on point.

“You already did”, Bond reminded him. “Fortunately, it didn’t end your promising career in espionage but we might not be so lucky next time.”

 _We_. The word settled somewhere close to his heart, a weight on his chest. Part of him immediately tried to downplay it and convince himself that Bond hadn’t meant anything by it but he knew better than that. Bond used language in much the same way as his gun: with deadly precision. He didn’t just say things; at least not when he was being sincere and Q felt that he was.

“Q?”, Bond asked cautiously.

“Mh? Oh, sorry. I was just … thinking.” His wings shifted nervously and Q forced them to stop. “You’re right”, he said, keeping his voice level. “I might need some time to think about this. And I think so do you.” Q paused, unsure if he should really say what he was about to. “If we continue this … arrangement, I won’t be just a body to warm your bed or a casual fling.”

“Q, you know I don’t do relationships”, Bond said as if talking to a petulant child.

The quartermaster scoffed. “I’m not talking about a relationship. At least not in the way you think of but if we’re going to do this there need to be rules. A mutual agreement, if you will. For example that nothing we do privately will affect our work. I want both of us to know exactly what we’re getting ourselves into and to be able to set boundaries the other can’t cross.”

“Like what?”

“You can never show up here uninvited and you definitely can’t let yourself in. Things like that. Also, I won’t show you my wings and you won’t pressure, try to convince or ask me to do it.” Q felt himself tense up as the silence following his declaration stretched out. He really wanted this to go on and he wanted it to work but for that Bond had to agree to play by his rules. Would he be willing to do that?

Finally, Bond spoke up. “Well, I heard no deal-breakers so far although it’s a damn shame I won’t get to see your wings.” Bond touched Q’s feathers. It felt gentle, almost reverent. “But we should really continue this discussion another day. It’s getting late – or rather, early.”

Q yawned. “Sounds like a plan.” He settled down and closed his eyes again. Bond resumed his position as well and the weight of his arm on Q’s waist made the quartermaster feel grounded and centred in a way that sometimes eluded him for days. He fell asleep easily.


End file.
